


Unexpected Visitor

by Storm337



Series: Mythology AU [12]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Bleeding, Blood, Imprisonment, Infection, Starvation, extreme injuries, pus, really the descriptions are pretty gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm337/pseuds/Storm337
Summary: “I’m not going to hurt you.” With the Host and DarkRequested on Tumblr by Anonymous"You poor thing. Why would anyone do this to you?" with Host - continuationRequested on Tumblr by The Zebra DragonInspired by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)'s version of Darkiplier
Series: Mythology AU [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587769
Kudos: 24





	Unexpected Visitor

The sphinx plodded wearily down the hallway, loose chains rattling from its ankles and neck. Blood dribbled from its various wounds, soaking its tan hide and tainting the gold streak in its thick black mane. Limp wings were drug on either side of its skinny frame, painting the floor rust like a lazy brush. Dry cracked nostrils flared and Dark winced at the sight of puss and blood leaking from sodden filthy bandages, barely clinging to the creature’s face. The monster growled softly, head swaying side to side, jaw locked shut by the device cutting deep into its cheeks and neck. Disoriented, sickly, disgusting, the creature trudged forward, pulled by some invisible string, some unforeseen idea in its clouded fevered brain.

Dark approached slowly, clipped footsteps and straightened back. The creature froze as he neared, the smell of its rot overwhelming. Dark had to blink stinging tears out of his eyes, wrapping his aura fiercely around his body to protect him from the foulness of the sphinx. Its growl began to build, getting louder as Dark got closer. Despite its malnourished state, it was still a large being, its neck and head stretching above Dark and tilted down. Its nose twitched but Dark wasn’t sure if could smell him over the blood trickling down its cheeks. A large glob of congealed...something slid off of its face and plopped loudly on the ground, splattering the small space between them. It was disgusting. It was wretched. 

It shared his face, the face of all of the egos, the face of his friend. 

It was the Host, suffering and barely standing before him, a warped horrid version of his friend, but his friend nonetheless. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Dark said slowly, making sure that each word rang out clear and loud over his aura. It swept over his body, rushing past him to coil around the Host, gingerly sliding through his fur and laying itself across his wounds. The sphinx tensed, ears twitching, head swaying to the side as he tried to track the movements of the wispy feelings. Without his narrations, he was truly blind, unable to tell what was before him, what was touching him, where he was. His vulnerable state was only made worse by his infections and open wounds. 

Dark felt something like pity in his chest, in the place where his heart should be, and stepped forward. The sphinx crouched, hunkering in on himself, shoulders hunched and too long claws extended. He growled in warning, and when Dark ignored it, raised his paw to swipe at the air between them. It was the wrong move, however, as the Host wasn’t able to support himself on only three paws. His back left leg gave out first, buckling under him, and then the rest of his body followed. Dark stiffened as the large cat went crashing to the ground with a wet thud, whining deeply. His chest heaved, desperately sucking in air, struggling to lift his suddenly heavy head. The demon stepped up to the beast, bending over to gently put his hand on the creature’s nose. The Host went still, every atrophied muscle rigid, tense, waiting- scared. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, my friend,” Dark restated, running his fingers up the bridge of the Host’s muzzle, petting the only clean patch left on his face. It seemed to calm the beast, which laid his head down on the ground, body going limp as the last of his strength left him. Dark’s aura laid across his body, wrapping him in a shadowy shroud, cool against his heated skin, a chilled balm over his burning wounds. The Host whining pitifully, heady beginning to fill with static and a soft ringing, wiping his barely structured thoughts and emotions to the side. He felt….safe. 

“I am going to help you.” 

* * *

Even with the help of the Googles, it takes Iplier hours to clean the creature up and begin treating the copious amount of wounds. Dark hears distressed beeping through the door on several occasions, typically preceded or followed by very human gagging. Iplier is a skilled doctor, a professional of experience, and Dark has to wonder how bad the beast’s injuries are to move the doctor to such sickness. He waits in the hall, impatient and agitated, and listens to the deep growls from within and the soft muttered words of their resident physician as he works frantically outside of his element.

When Iplier does let him back in, eyes red-rimmed and masks layered on his face, the first thing Dark registers is the smell. It isn’t remotely decent, not to mention pleasant, but vastly improved from when Dark found the thing prowling the hallways. The rot and decay that clung to it has dispersed but hasn’t quite yet disappeared from the room at large. He coils his aura tightly around him again, steeling his resolve, and approaches with the same firm quick steps as when he first met the creature.

Its head is propped up on one of the tables, cushioned with layers of towels and blankets to make it semi-comfortable and keep the edge of the table from digging into its throat. The rest of its large body lays on the floor, protected from the cold linoleum only by a meager sheet. The rise and fall of its side is labored and uneven, every inhale a struggle and every exhale a pain. It is still quite filthy, but the wounds on its back and rump have been cleaned, shaved, and bandaged. The wings are untouched, as far as Dark can tell, still sprawled across the ground in large rusty heaps, but a big of dull gold is beginning to peek through. An IV is stuck in the back of the creature's paw, and then further up in the crook of its elbow, the thin tubes and flimsy metal pole the bags hang on looking so small in comparison. Fresh gauze adorns its face, anchored to its limp ears, stray strands of black hair obscuring much of its features. 

It is, nevertheless, a familiar face. Dark has no doubt his friend is aware that this creature is here; maybe he foresaw its arrival days ago, but he hasn’t yet left his room to come and investigate. After this visit, Dark decides he will go check on him.

For now, he is preoccupied with the version of the Host in front of him, looking marginally better, but still quite terrible. The Googles work to haul the strange metal muzzle off for disposal. The doctor has disappeared, perhaps to quell his rolling stomach, and Dark relishes the brief moment of privacy and peace. He closes the distance between them, his aura spinning out in long shadows and petting at the Sphinx, crawling up his paws and exploring his form, ruffling his feathers and smoothing down his rumpled mane.

“You poor thing,” Dark murmurs, placing his hand upon the Sphinx's nose, running his fingers up and down the bridge as he had done their first meeting. 

The motion rouses the creature, but only marginally. Drugs cloud his fevered mind, fighting his infections but also dulling his perceptions. The Host turns his head slightly, ears flicking weakly, picking up on Dark’s voice but just barely. He settles again as Dark continues his gentle petting, sighing deeply and relaxing for the first time in weeks. He kneads at the blanket, large claws poking small holes into the fabric. A rumble starts in his chest, not a growl but not embodying the strength or the pleasure of a purr. A content noise; a thank you for the rest, for the lack of pain, for the safety.

“Why would anyone do  _ this _ to you? Who would be  _ able _ to do this to you?”

Dark doesn’t expect an answer any time soon, but he does expect one eventually. For now, he reaches up to swipe the hair from the Host’s face, clearing his bandages, and pushing the strands back, patting the top of his head gently. For now, the Host will rest and recover, and Dark will turn on his heel and walk briskly away, his aura reluctantly trailing after him. 


End file.
